


The Gift

by wyles77



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:35:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7211846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyles77/pseuds/wyles77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick drabble inspired by 2DShepard's amazing artwork. Messy Shepard lets something slip...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [2DShepard](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=2DShepard).



> OK, so my admiration for 2DShepard‘s drawing is endless. And in appreciation of this adorable cartoon (http://2dshepard.tumblr.com/post/145858530087/thank-you-for-your-interest-happy-tears-i), well, I just couldn’t help myself. Hopefully this does Messy a little justice - thanks for all the cool pics of Shiara adorableness!

**The Gift**

"This is it, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Messy forces the word out, as though it’s choking her, but the tightness in her chest doesn’t dissipate. "This is it."

“I don’t know what to say,” Liara observes, trying her hardest to maintain some façade of humour. “I just know I’ll have a clever line five minutes from now.”  She turns away for a moment, studies the body of the poor young man who is the only witness to their conversation. "I have something for you, Shepard,” she offers eventually, suddenly shy in spite of the easy comfort of their relationship. “A gift. It'll only take a moment, if you want it."

For a moment, Messy’s tempted to ask what it is, but decides, on impulse, just to go with it. “I’d be honoured.”

“Close your eyes,” Liara instructs.

Messy calms her mind, guessing Liara’s intent.  Sure enough, within moments, the warm, fuzzy feeling of contact with Liara’s mind envelops her, drawing her to a place of infinite darkness, where she stands side by side with the asari.

Liara smiles a reassurance as a pinpoint of light appears in the distance, and as Shepard focuses on it, images and sensations begin to flicker through her mind, each and every one a moment between herself and Liara, the laughter they have enjoyed, the tragedies they have shared, the adversities they have conquered—together. The moments begin to blur until she can no longer separate them, blending into a shining pool of light, happiness, and hope that engulfs her.

Pleasantly disoriented, Messy relaxes.  Here in the safety of her mind, lost in her imagination, she can savour the intimacy that she denies herself day to day, bask in the closeness of Liara’s loving presence, freed from the shackles of command, responsibility, and duty.  In here, she’s just Messy, and just Messy loves Liara as much as Liara loves her.

_Oh Goddess!_

The thought is not hers, though it’s familiar enough to be, and the shock of her realization, that Liara’s sharing her mind and can hear every thought— _feel every emotion_ —washes through her in a tidal wave of freezing fear, sweeping away the peace and contentment Liara was trying so hard to impart.

She jerks back from the meld, wide-eyed, her gaze locking with Liara’s.  Astonishment, triumph, and love, underpinned by aching grief, roil in the windows to Liara’s soul, and as Messy looks—barely daring to breathe lest she shatter this precious, fragile, flawed crystal moment of _knowing_ —a deep flush of colour blooms along Liara’s cheekbones.

Liara breaks their gaze, turns away, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.  Stricken, Messy catches her arm, torn between slamming down the barriers of propriety, _one last time_ , and letting herself, _just this once, dammit_ , acknowledge the truth of her emotions. That she’s loved Liara for so long she’s no longer sure what it feels like not to. That she can no longer imagine living without the beautiful asari and her shining soul.

“Are you all right?” is what tumbles from her lips instead, automatic pilot kicking in as she flounders with her feelings. Her own cheeks heat with an embarrassed blush as she realises that, as usual, her inner dork has claimed the driving seat. She reins herself in with titanic effort, refortifying what’s left of her emotional control.

“Yes,” Liara whispers, staring down at the broken concrete beneath her boots.  “Yes.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Messy stutters, “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with my own emotions. Liara looks up sharply, her blush still spreading. “The gift…” _crap, what do I even say_ , “uh… was beautiful.”

The look on Liara’s face, though, screams that the words aren’t enough, that she can’t simply pretend this was a slip of the tongue, a social faux pas to be ignored like so many of her unintentional utterings. And besides, most of Messy wants to sweep Liara into her arms and kiss her senseless, so much that her fingers are almost itching. But she still has a job to do, and as always, what she wants must come second to that duty.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she admits, grasping Liara’s hand in supplication. Hoping the awkward, hackneyed, half-way house of deferral will be enough. Hating the fact that she cannot, in this moment, give the asari the reassurance both their hearts desire. “Just… not like this.” She gestures to their surroundings, winces as her shoulder plate catches on her rifle. _Please, Liara.  I want to do this right_.

Liara studies her for a moment, lower lip trembling with the effort of containing her emotions.  Then, she steps close, curling one had around the nape of Messy’s neck. “Then tell me, Shepard,” she pleads as she draws Messy into a fierce hug. “Promise me you’ll come back… and tell me everything.”

 


End file.
